M.D Dinesh Nair
I made a wooden box of the teak and the ebony dark
And sat for a million years inside it
Hoping to be the Confessor of God.
But He did not come down!
The human woes and the plight of the microbes,
The tears and the squeals of a multitude,
And the sighs and the the sobs of a life imposed
Were all there in my mind to guide me on.
But He did n`t come down!
I got ready with the power of a universal silence
To break His heart once He began the Confessions.
I thought of silencing Him for ever
But I alone remained in the box shrinking
As He did n`t come down!
From the pulpit of reasons I wanted to preach to the world
About His absence and the reasons thereof.
The surging crowd told me to keep quiet further
As they were His eulogists for a million years.
He still did n`t come down!
From the stars beyond the catch of one`s eyes
A comet came to human habitats on the blue speck
It hit us all and then spared every none except me.
And a silence followed the great celestial flash!
I hoped for a while that He would come!
In the nothingness that emerged for once next
My wooden box remained floating across a dark cloud
Which was now raining blood and fluids of my flesh.
My wooden box had it doors open and someone was there inside
I had seen that face in my early dreams and it was His!
Oh my wooden box! my robes, are n`t you both mine?
A crowd is awaiting His Forgiving me.
But my confession cannot begin and it will never
The Confessor is now waiting for it.
But I know one day we will exchange our positions.
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Comments about this poem (THE CONFESSORS by M.D Dinesh Nair )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(23 June 1889 – 5 March 1966)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(30 December 1865 – 18 January 1936)
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- Annabel Lee, Edgar Allan Poe
- I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
- If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
- Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, Robert Frost
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